Vindicated
by Skylarcat
Summary: Just a piece of MSR Fluff.


**Title:** Vindicated

**Author: **Skylarcat

**Classification:** A short piece referencing the relationship of Mulder and Scully.

**Rating:** K (Pretty much PG)

**Summary: **Just a piece of MSR Fluff.

**Note: **Scully and Mulder are characters that belong to Christ Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions. Yes, I have used them without permission. However, no copyright infringement is intended.

**Feedback: **Hell yes!! I want feedback!!

Broken men don't have wings, but when she stood so near; he was able to fly and within these rare moments, he could reach up and touch heaven. It suspended before him; bruised and battered much like his soul, but beautiful with rays of gold and sapphire descending like droplets of honey; pure and rich. The clouds billowed and swelled like the foam of the sea. The light blinding him slightly, but the warmth still present, tangible and within his reach.

Her voice painted a rainbow within the sky; each word a star bursting and desiccating, its stardust declining back down upon the earth. "I'm here, Mulder. Right here." It was soft and smooth, like the whisper of a thousand angel wings. And upon each hushed declaration he bowed like a Pagan waiting to worship her.

He could feel her now under his touch, malleable and alive. Her blood was warm and vital just under her delicate skin. Red and passionate like the lips of a lover. His fingers gently traced along her palm then stretched entangling themselves within hers. Such simplicity that one action, her hand within his, bridging their souls as one.

He was in love with her. But secretly within the space of the shadow and soul, where only the flicker of a candle could unravel the mysteries of the heart. He loved her without knowing how or when or from where. Pure as the snow on mountaintops, wide as the heavens stretched. Love knew no boundaries. He loved her fully and desperately without complexities or pride. And if the world should end in this very moment, he would know what it felt like to be complete and that would be enough in itself.

He lowered his head slightly and inhaled her scent. She smelled of white lilies and rain. And he suddenly had the desire to press his lips along her collarbone to see what she tasted like. But instead he sat motionless; fixated by her proximity and he felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began.

Her body merged with his with such friction that it ignited a spark from somewhere deep within and it was housed and cradled until it transformed into a fire; and he quickly pulled away, afraid of getting burned.

She gazed at him from under thick dark lashes. Her eyes sensitive and the color of the ocean, draping upon him like a silent prayer. Casting their light onto his soul like an open window leaving nothing sacred. She could see right through him. His spirit naked and adorned for her sacrifice.

"You can't leave me, Scully." His words twisted and mingled with the darkness of the room. The sharp edge of silence cut through like a dagger leaving only the remnants of his echo. And he fell back onto the mattress longing for its consumption of his being.

She pulled back the sheets and crawled in beside him, joining her body along his. "I'm not going anywhere." Dreams found absolutions in such confessions. But he did not care for her head shared his pillow; her small hands pressed against his naked chest and her leg dangled over his. And within this moment he was vindicated. He was saved.

When she slept she was beautiful; so small and frail and he was hesitant to brush a strand of copper away from her eyes, afraid that the slightest touch would break her. And he watched with high content as her chest filled with air then deflated to only rise again. He counted the rhythms of each breath finding comfort in the knowledge that she was alive and so close to him. Like the impetuous sea her presence could sweep him away.

Her innocence had been lost some time ago like blood spilling upon the snow; her faith now tainted. He watched as her beautiful spirit dissolved and bubbled like champagne in the warm summer air, crystal and clear and tasting of sweetness before burning the throat. He savored the time when she slept, when she felt peace, when she dreamed.

She was a rare diamond; rough and polished, demure and sparkling. And he was merely a blank canvas when she entered his life. And sudden and unexpectedly she transformed him into a masterpiece, a work of art. She chipped at the layers of ice that surrounded his heart until she finally held it within her warm naked fingers, giving him life; giving him a reason to continue.

Hope resided in the corner of his soul; like a spider web shimmering and embellished with such beautiful aspects of redemption. And he was so close to it now that he could almost touch the gossamer entanglements. The light radiant and mirroring the transparent dimensions of a universe parallel to this one. Within the reticulation of time fate was being born. Its fiery emissions dispensing like string winding in and winding out.

Butterflies had souls. He witnessed their descend from the heavens. Sparkling wings of color refusing to fly. They fell upon the earth covering the masses with their shadows and like the trickle of his tears they fabricated their own graves.

His own wings basked within the warmth of the sun; heightened and erect as if their mystical flawlessness could resurrect his fallen comrades. But their souls long martyred within the passage of time. Her spirit could not save them not like it had him.

The moonlight danced across her features seductively. The light twisting within the confinements of her soul as she slept on unaware of such intrusiveness. Her snow-colored flesh turned a hue of pink under his touch, but he couldn't bring himself to remove his hand afraid that the loss of warmth would be unbearable. He loved her and he would love her forever. She saved him and in the end he was vindicated.

**The End**

**Feedback Needed**


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